


velvet

by MooseFeels



Series: flow morphia, slow [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Vampires, and becomes a vampire, yuuri dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 11:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14519784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseFeels/pseuds/MooseFeels
Summary: Yuuri dies.Yuuri lives again.





	velvet

Viktor knows something is wrong the minute he makes it upstairs and the door is open. 

Yuuri lives in a bad neighborhood, and it makes Viktor nervous. 

It’s not that Viktor lives in a particularly good part of town, but he does live somewhere where most of the streetlights work and where most of the buildings aren’t condemned. Viktor lives in a part of town where he door always locks, and it’s never been torn down. Call it a luxury after two hundred years, and one Viktor has insured for himself after being woken up in the night too many times by a mob. 

Yuuri lives in a  _ bad _ neighborhood, and if his door is just open to the air like this, something is  _ wrong _ .

“Yuuri?” Viktor calls. He steps into the apartment. “Yuuri?”   
It’s not just the open door, it’s the air. It’s the light. It’s the linoleum floor in the kitchen. It’s Yuuri’s hand, just visible beyond the edge of the cabinet, twitching barely.

Viktor remembers this for years to come. Every crawling, static detail of this place, of what he sees. 

“Yuuri,” he says. “Yuuri, Yuuri, what’s wrong-- what happened?” 

He kneels down to the floor, beside him, in front of him, close to him. Yuuri’s leaning against a cabinet. His hand is cover his chest. He looks  _ pale _ . Ghostly. Unreal. 

_ Dying _ . 

There’s blood. There is a feasts worth of blood, welling up from between Yuuri’s fingers, a dark stain on Yuuri’s shirt. It’s the pale blue one Viktor likes so much; the one that’s just a  _ little _ too tight over Yuuri’s shoulders. 

“Viktor,” Yuuri says, his eyes opening. He gasps, sucking in breath as quickly as he can. “Viktor-- Viktor. I-- Viktor-- you have to-- he stabbed me.”   
Viktor pulls off his jacket and balls it up. Puts pressure on Yuuri’s wound. Yuuri twists. He hisses. The floor is slippery under Viktor’s feet. 

The blood is cool. 

“Viktor,” Yuuri says. His eyes don’t focus on him; they don’t focus anywhere. They jitter and stumble across space, lost. His expression is open. It’s terrifying. 

“Yuuri, you’re in shock,” Viktor says, trying to stay calm. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. Can you press this to your wound for me? Can you help me do that? I have to call 911. We have to get you to a doctor.”   
“Viktor,” Yuuri says. His eyes go glassy. God, he’s so pale. Viktor can’t get his hands to stop shaking. 

“Yuuri, I need you to stay calm for me,” he says. 

Yuuri mumbles something, something Viktor can’t catch. 

Viktor fumbles into his pockets for his phone. 

“I don’t want to die,” Yuuri says. “Don’t let me die. Please. Please, Viktor.”

“I’m calling a doctor,” Viktor says. “Just hold--”   
“Viktor, no,” Yuuri pants. His chest rises and falls. “Viktor, don’t let me die.”   
“I’m not  _ going _ to,” Viktor says.

“Viktor,” Yuuri says, and his voice barely breathes Yuuri’s name. “Don’t.  _ Please. _ ”   
Viktor feels himself freeze, turn to ice. 

“Yuuri, you’re in shock, you don’t know what you’re asking--”

“I don’t want to die,” Yuuri pants. He’s so  _ pale _ . God, he is so pale. And he’s cold and he’s bleeding, he’s bleeding. 

_ I don’t want to die. _

Viktor nods. He pulls Yuuri into his lap, settling his back against his own chest. He cross his legs into Yuuri’s lap. To ground him. To weight him. To remind him that he’s here.

“Okay,” Viktor says. “Okay, Yuuri. Stay with me. Stay right here.”   
Yuuri’s breath is thready. Viktor lifts his right hand and pulls Yuuri’s wrist into his mouth, and he lives his own worst nightmare.

* * *

 

Yuuri has lost blood before. He’s lost  _ lots _ of blood before; he feeds Viktor almost biweekly at this point.

This feeling is different. 

Yuuri didn’t see the man follow him home. He didn’t expect him to kick the door down as Yuuri turned to unlock it. He didn’t expect him to back him into the kitchen and stab him in the gut. He didn’t. He didn’t.

Now, though, Yuuri is bleeding and bleeding and bleeding on the floor and his Viktor is bleeding him even more. 

And it  _ hurts _ . It hurts with each heartbeat that Yuuri can feel slipping away from him, further and further, dragging him under somewhere. 

Yuuri can’t breathe. He can barely summon the energy to make his heart beat. 

He thinks Viktor is saying something. He  _ thinks  _ he is. He isn’t sure. Yuuri tries to hear him. He can’t.

Yuuri feels something press against his mouth. Something warm and sticky. 

“Yuuri, please,” Viktor says.

Yuuri opens his mouth. 

And there’s nothing. 

And then there’s everything. 


End file.
